Lingering Nightmares
by Elissa Penworthy
Summary: No matter how hard we try, some memories cling to us and inspire nightmares. Collection of one-shots. UPDATE: Chapter 4- Eustace- is now up!
1. Edmund

**Set after LWW**

I do not own _The Chronicles of Narnia._ I wish I did, but I don't.

_It was cold. The chill of the wind and snow had ripped the previous warmth that enveloped around his limbs from him. The small figure shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself, before squinting at the path ahead of him. He froze—where was the path? His breath halted in its path into his lungs. The snow had covered the trail!_

_The boy shook his head, ridding himself of the gloomy thoughts of going astray. The thoughts retreated, but stayed close to his mind, snarling fiercely. _No matter,_ he thought, trying to cheer himself. He scanned the horizon and his eyes sought out the two hills the queen had mentioned. _Ah!_ He angled his body a few degrees to the right. _That should be enough,_ he decided, nodding sharply before continuing on his way._

_His steps soon sped him to the hills. He paused to rest for a moment and kept his eyes fixed on the castle between them._

"_Not far now," he muttered to himself. His mind was instantly entertained by visions of beautifully wrapped sweets and he licked his lips hungrily. Then he set off, trudging through the snow._

_He felt a jerk and blinked open his eyes to see a frozen throne room. The icy walls emitted an eerie blue glow and he stared, awestruck, at them. His eyes searched around the room before they widened. _She's here.

_The boy felt his heart stop as her gaze rested on him. Those eyes bored into him and froze him, seeming to suffocate him. He felt like a mouse under a viper's hungry glare, powerless against the fate that seemed to loom over him, unavoidable and terrifying._

_She seemed to glide toward him and he felt rooted to the spot. _Powerless. I am powerless,_ he thought, too afraid to tremble. Her lips turned up in a malevolent smirk and a frigid wind buffeted around him, tearing at his clothes and making his eyes burn._

_He tried to open his mouth and scream, but his mouth didn't respond. _Help me,_ he whimpered silently._

_She still approached him, seeming to laugh at his helplessness. Her voice rang in his ears. "His blood is my property." He wanted to cringe away, but felt rooted to the spot._

_The scene changed again, and he was curled in the corner of a dungeon cell. He winced at the pain that racked through his body as he coughed. His legs throbbed and sharp jolts ran up and down his entire frame. Suddenly he realized that there was something wrong. His gaze traveled down his arms and legs, observing his bruises and cuts anxiously. Then he saw something in the cell beside his and he tilted his head and peered in. A terrified cry escaped his lips as he saw the cell's occupants._

_He saw his siblings, but there was something wrong…_

_They were made of stone._

"NO!"

Edmund sat up, his breath coming in gasps. "Just a dream," he whispered, rubbing his eyes, trying to reassure himself, but he still trembled and his hands clenched into tight fists.

Footsteps startled him and his eyes darted to the door a moment before it flew open. He stared, wide-eyed with fright, at the dark shape before it stepped out of the shadows and into a pool of moonlight that flooded in through the window.

"Peter." Edmund's breath gusted out of him and his fists relaxed.

"Are you all right?" Peter whispered, worry creasing his brow.

Edmund nodded tiredly, dropping his eyes to his sheets.

Peter crossed the floor and sat on the bed next to him. "You were screaming again," he murmured, his eyes resting on Edmund's dark mess of hair.

Edmund didn't look up or answer. He smoothed the blanket under his hand, his heart finally slowing its beat.

"Ed, you can tell me," Peter said gently, his tone unreadable.

Edmund gritted his teeth and shook his head ever so slightly, squeezing his eyes shut in an effort to keep the images from his dream at bay. He heard Peter sigh and felt a gentle, warm hand stroke his hair. _Warm,_ he reminded himself, opening his eyes. _He's alive, warm. Not cold stone._

But the thought didn't stop twin drops of moisture from falling on the sheet. Edmund tried to wipe his cheeks and hide his tears from his brother, but Peter just made a small, choking sound and enfolded him in a warm embrace. "Shh… You're safe," Peter soothed, his voice sounding a little strained. "We're _all_ safe, Ed."

Edmund nodded into his shoulder, leaving wet trails on the sleeve of his brother's shirt. After a few minutes had passed, he sat up and wiped his nose on his own sleeve, choking out, "I'm so sorry."

Peter chuckled a little. "It's all right, Ed. I don't mind you waking me up."

Edmund shook his head. "I'm sorry for _everything_. It was my fault. I was so stupid, and—"

"No, you weren't. Each of us was at fault."

Edmund looked up and met Peter's eyes. "But mine most of all."

"We forgave you, Edmund. _Aslan_ forgave you. Isn't that enough?"

"It is." Edmund buried his head in his hands. "I just never seem to remember that in my sleep."

Peter smiled sadly at him and nudged him. "Go back to sleep," he said softly. "I'll stay here for a while."

Edmund closed his eyes and snuggled further down under the sheets. Silence fell between the two for a while before a small, sleepy voice called in the darkness.

"Peter?"

"Yes, Edmund?"

"Thank you."

The elder of the two smiled at the figure curled up beside him. "You're welcome."

Author Note:  
So I don't really know what I was thinking as I began writing this. I'd appreciate it if you could review and tell me what you think! I will be writing more, I promise. I'd like to write at least one chapter for each character, if no one says otherwise.

So please, please, please review!  
~Elissa Penworthy~


	2. Susan

**Set A bit before SC**

I do not own _The Chronicles of Narnia._ I wouldn't be writing fan fiction if I did, now, would I?

_Susan smiled contentedly, practically floating across the dance floor in the arms of her partner. They danced, a perfect picture of grace and loveliness, as the crowds around them watched jealously._

_Her eyes traveled down and she admired the silky, rose-colored dress. Her head felt slightly heavier with the thin, golden crown adorning it, but the weight almost felt natural. Then she let her eyes wander over the other faces surrounding her. The other boys looked jealous of her partner. Susan stifled a laugh—they all wanted to dance with her. They all envied Queen Susan's partner._

_She almost stumbled in her steps. _Queen Susan? Where did that come from?_ she wondered. Then she remembered the games she and her siblings had played when they were younger. They had been four monarchs in a faraway land called… _Oh… What was it called?

_She shrugged. No matter—they were silly games anyway. But the familiarity she felt from the crown's weight and the way her dress brushed against her skin still nagged at her mind. Had it been a game or something more?_

_Susan had to stifle another laugh. _Someone must have put something in your punch,_ she scolded herself. _You're full of silly ideas today.

_She allowed herself to smile as she continued the dance, leaving her foolish ideas behind her. This was more real than any fairy-story._

_As the dance ended and Susan curtsied to her partner, she felt sad eyes heavy on the back of her head. She turned around, expecting another reproachful partner to dance with, but instead she saw an enormous Lion. He met her gaze with golden eyes so full of love and sadness that she had to choke back the lump in her throat. "Aslan," she whispered. The Lion didn't even twitch a whisker._

_Then Susan's more "sensible" side kicked in and she ran, screaming, "There's a lion!"_

_Most of the other children responded by screaming and following her example of running. A few fainted and some ran to get help; the one that caught Susan's attention was a little boy who stepped toward the Lion. Susan remembered seeing him off in the corner after Susan's friends shamed him for actually coming to the dance. His eyes were wide as he stumbled toward the creature and he fell on his knees in front of it. The Lion's eyes were soft, still full of absolute love as he breathed on the boy. The boy smiled and stepped back from the Lion, his face now much more peaceful._

_At that moment, an adult ran in with a gun. Susan squinted at the face. The adult appeared to be a tall, dark-haired lady with a terrible expression of victory written on her face. Her lips moved and a voice echoed in Susan's mind. "And now, who has won? Fool, did you think that by all this you could save the human traitor?"_

_Susan blinked, and the adult's face shifted back into a red-haired man, yelling at the other boy to move. She turned to face the scene in front of her as the man pulled the trigger…_

_She felt a sick sense of déjà vu as the Lion fell, his eyes finally breaking from hers, and she felt an emotion similar to grief. Susan shook herself. _It was just a stupid lion,_ she thought, but that didn't stop the tears from falling._

Susan woke with tears still sliding down her face. She stood, making sure the other girls in her room weren't awake, and tiptoed over to the sink. After she was sure she had scrubbed her face enough, she went back and sank into her bed. She shook her head at herself for crying at a dream.

She blamed her tears on her tender-heartedness toward animals, nothing more.

Author's Note:  
Chapter TWO! And so quickly, right? Well, I have gotten some reviews, and that makes me very happy!  
I think I'll write Eustace next. Just review and tell me which one you want to read. I'll be happy to oblige.

Review Thanks for:  
Sentimental Star  
eustacegirl  
Jessica


	3. Peter

I still don't own it.

Before you freak out, I did say I would do Eustace next. But I haven't yet—sorry! That's next. I promise.

** Before LWW**

**Ages:  
****Peter—11  
****Susan—10  
****Edmund—8  
****Lucy—6**

_He felt a small thrill of adventure as he crept through the moonlit sea of grass; the strange, floral scent was intoxicating and he closed his eyes, throwing back his head and smiling. The only sounds were the crickets chirping and the slight _swish_ of his bare feet in the long blades of grass._

_Peter blinked as he stepped into a shadowed forest. The trees swayed in the fragrant breeze, their leaves whispering to each other. He sighed contentedly, peace stealing over his features. Peter breathed in again and his brow furrowed in confusion—the sweet scent had morphed into a putrid stench, like rotted meat, along with something else._

If cruelty was a smell, then this was what it would smell like_, he thought. His heart began to race and he shuddered._

_He needed to find somewhere to hide._

_A sound behind him made him freeze. _Laughter? But it sounds so familiar…_ he wondered. Then he recognized the sound._

_It was his sister's laugh._

"_Lucy?" he called, foreboding constricting around his chest._

_The laughter continued, sounding further away. Peter felt fear rise up and twine with his foreboding and he began sprinting as fast as he could after the sound. Another peal of laughter followed the last, and Peter gritted his teeth and ran even faster._

_A growl echoed through the forest, seeming to pierce through to his heart. Two high-pitched shrieks wove through the trees and Peter felt horror rise up and threaten to immobilize him, but he resisted._

_The sounds around him seemed to wrap around him, almost mocking him: twin screams, a trembling war cry and the scrape of metal on metal, a ringing howl. Then came a sound that made Peter's heart skip a beat: a scream—his baby brother's scream. His vision blurred momentarily, but he shook his head and kept running._

_When he finally burst into the clearing, a nightmarish vision met his eyes. An enormous wolf, its fur shining like flawed silver, stood over his three siblings. Its eyes shone with triumph and it threw back its head in an unearthly howl. Then it lowered its head to fix its gaze on his three siblings._

"Peter?" The door creaked slightly and a small, dark-haired figure appeared from behind it, his brow creased from worry.

A small squeak answered him, and his eyes shifted over to rest on the bed in the corner of the room. Another squeak made him rush over to the edge of the bed. "Peter…" he murmured.

_The scene changed and Peter was momentarily blinded by sunlight. He blinked and his eyes adjusted; he looked around himself in awe._

"_PETER!" His brother's voice sounded strange, almost muffled._

_He looked up. A frightening creature snarled at him, swinging its weapon in an arc toward his head._

_Peter ducked, swinging up his arm. A harsh _clang_ echoed around him as his sword (how did he get a sword?) blocked the blow. His arm swung again and he batted the creature out of the way. He heard himself yelling at his brother, but didn't understand the words._

_He whirled around, blocking and slashing with surprising accuracy._

_Then he heard a yell and spun around._

_His brother stood with his sword outstretched toward a tall woman who held a broken wand. Another series of clangs echoed around the battlefield._

_And then a small cry caught Peter's attention and he froze._

_He saw his brother collapse and screamed wordlessly._

"Peter!" Edmund ducked, narrowly avoiding his brother's flailing arms.

Said brother tossed and turned, gasping for breath. His cheeks were streaked with tears.

Edmund tried to grab Peter's wrists, but found that his brother seemed stronger than he was while he was awake. Edmund gritted his teeth and flung himself over his brother's body, successfully pinning him down.

"_ED!" Peter screamed, his voice sounding strange. He felt himself swing his sword again before he ran toward his brother._

_He got about halfway there before slamming into something solid._

_Peter's breath left him in a gasp. His movements became frantic as he struggled to reach the small figure curled on the ground. He felt like there was a sheet of glass between him and his brother, blocking him from going any further._

_He felt himself fall to his knees; his body racked as he sobbed._

Edmund buried his face in his brother's nightshirt. "Shh, Peter. Shh…" He felt his brother shudder under him and he sat up cautiously.

"Ed?"

He started at the rough voice. He looked down at his brother and tried to smile. "Morning, Peter," he whispered, watching as Peter's eyes flickered open.

He felt his brother's arms wrap around him and sat on the bed beside him. Edmund smoothed Peter's hair down, a shaky smile on his face. He heard his brother sigh softly.

"It's all right, Peter. You're safe."

Peter relaxed and a smile formed on his face. "Thanks, Ed," he murmured before dreamless sleep claimed him again.

Author's Note:  
Yes, I did just update—it's not just a figment of your imaginations! I've been on vacation and getting ready for school to start up again, so I haven't been writing lately…  
But I'm back now. And I should write faster once I get into school.  
Reviews, please! Even one-word reviews (terrible, great, okay, etc.) count.  
~Elissa~


	4. Eustace

**Disclaimer:** I don't claim to own _The Chronicles of Narnia_. That would be C.S. Lewis, a genius among authors.

Set after _Silver Chair_.

* * *

Eustace yawned widely and his eyes closed tightly; he scrubbed at them eyes violently, as if he were trying to rid himself of his exhaustion.

Someone on his left snickered at him and he raised his head to shoot the culprit a glare. Jill Pole's smirk only widened under the weight of his gaze. "Oh, hush up, Pole," Eustace growled, more good-natured than angry. "It's not _my_ fault I'm exhausted."

"Then whose fault is it?" she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

Eustace sighed, sitting back in his chair. "I had a nightmare," he murmured, watching out of the window of the train.

"What was it about?"

He paused for a moment as vivid memories of the nightmare washed over him. He wondered how he could describe it to her without shuddering. "It started out as a good dream, but then it changed…"

vVvVvVv

_He was in Narnia again, even if he didn't know how he knew. Perhaps it was how much fresher the air seemed, or how bright the colors were. He didn't care how he knew; all he cared about was that he was _home.

_His cousins, the Pevensies—well, just Peter and Edmund and Lucy (Susan never seemed to speak of her experiences in Narnia)—had told him how they longed for Narnia (Lucy said they longed for Aslan more than that, to which her brothers had nodded solemnly in agreement), and now Eustace understood. The only thing he felt was joy. Even now he was grinning from ear to ear, probably looking like a fool—but at least he was a happy fool._

_But his joy was short-lived when he realized he couldn't move normally. He shifted from left to right and opened his mouth, huffing in annoyance. Then he froze. His breath came as two pillars of smoke from on top of his nose._

_Eustace the dragon was back._

_He tried to scream but a grating roar erupted from his throat and flames flickered around his jaw, comfortingly warm against his scales. _No!_ he felt like screaming. _Aslan, no!

_The Lion was nowhere to be found. Instead, Eustace had never felt more alone. Scalding dragon-tears slid down his cheeks and fell on the sand beneath his feet. A ship's outline shrank on the horizon and somehow he knew it was the Dawn Treader._

_Eustace roared again, fear and desperation echoing around him. Mocking him. He flapped those horrible, bat-like wings and tried to rise into the air, but he didn't even get two feet off of the ground._

_Weariness overpowered him and he sank down and shut his eyes._

vVvVvVv

"That's horrible," Jill whispered, her brow furrowed in sympathy. "Have you had many dreams like that?"

"Not very often. It only happens after a spectacularly hard day, or if I don't get much sleep before." He sighed. "It's always so… _vivid_, though."

"I understand. I still have dreams about trying to get back to the surface, when the water rose, and it always rises too fast and we can't get out." She thought for a while, tilting her head a bit to the side. "I've never thought about it before, but it _does_ happen more often when I'm tired, or during a storm."

"Well, I'm glad—"

"Scrubb, Pole. Is there something more important that you would care to share with the class?" Their teacher, an elderly woman with a sour expression on her face, glared down at them, looking bored.

"No, ma'am," Jill answered angelically, rolling her eyes at Eustace. He grinned at her and thanked the Lion for a true friend before the pair's minds returned to the lesson at hand.

* * *

Author's Note:  
This (short) chapter is courtesy of my friend smacking me over the head. (Actually, I updated mostly because I hadn't in forever, and plus VTD came out today!)  
So….. reviews are loved—greatly so. (Hint, hint.)  
What character do you want to see next? Review and/or vote on my page, please!  
~Elissa~


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